


Five Fae Types Kenzi Didn't Choose, and One She Did

by tacky_tramp



Category: Lost Girl
Genre: Gen, Kenzi becomes fae, five things
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-12-23
Updated: 2013-12-23
Packaged: 2018-01-05 15:35:06
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,436
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1095686
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/tacky_tramp/pseuds/tacky_tramp
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Kenzi has decided to become fae. She just has to choose what kind, with a little help from her friends.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Five Fae Types Kenzi Didn't Choose, and One She Did

**Author's Note:**

  * For [roslindi](https://archiveofourown.org/users/roslindi/gifts).



1.

Kenzi scowled and rubbed the inside of her elbow. "Jeez, Doc, taking out some repressed hostility on my poor, innocent veins?"

Lauren looked embarrassed as she taped a cotton ball over the tiny puncture wound.

"I'm sorry. Drawing blood has never been my forte. I used to have this fantastic serket phlebotomist, amazingly precise, but then she got transferred to Cairo, and …"

“And then she got sand in all kinds of interesting places, I'm sure. Can we get back to my injury, please?”

Lauren smiled, the lines in her face betraying the tension she was clearly trying to hide. “You're fine. You're quite resilient. You probably won't even bruise. No problem.”

Kenzi held Lauren's gaze for a long moment. Her voice was small when she spoke. “Do you really think it'll be 'no problem'?”

The doctor's face softened. She smoothed the tape on Kenzi's arm and then, just for a second, squeezed her hand. “The blood work will help me tailor the procedure to your unique physiology. I can account for histocompatibility and avoid a leukocyte interaction, so there's really nothing to worry about.”

“Okay, Doc, just keep the science words coming. For once, instead of giving me terrifying flashbacks to freshman biology, they're actually pretty reassuring.”

If Lauren noticed the quaver in Kenzi's voice, she was polite enough not to mention it. She busied herself with labeling the half-dozen tubes of blood and asked, “Have you given much thought to the fae type you'll choose?” Kenzi mumbled something noncommittal.

“You should choose something that complements your personality,” Lauren suggested, a teasing gleam in her eye. “Maybe a kobold?”

She managed to duck and avoid catching a roll of medical tape with her face.

 

2.

Kenzi passed the ice cream carton across the couch. She and Bo had on their comfiest bathrobes, the ones with fraying edges and holes in the pockets. They shared a spoon and skipped bowls altogether. One more way to minimize household chores.

“No way,” Kenzi was saying. “Uh-uh. Totally impossible.”

“Why?” Bo asked around a mouthful of Pecan Nougat Explosion. “You're like a succubus expert. Years of job shadowing. Who knows more about it than you?”

Kenzi shrugged. “Our attitudes toward sex are completely different. I don't think I've got what it takes. I'm not ...”

“Slutty enough?” Bo offered archly.

“I don't know. My _tetya_ would say I've got that covered.”

Bo handed over the carton and spoon, waiting and watching for a moment. “Kenzi,” she finally said, “I think you are a closet romantic.”

Kenzi's eyes went wide. “That … that is a base and vile slander. You take that back, Bo Dennis.”

Bo just smiled and reached between the couch cushions for the bottle of chocolate syrup.

 

3.

“You have clearly never gone to a karaoke bar with me,” Kenzi told Hale, shaking her head.

“Can't carry a tune?”

“Let's just say that when I sing Journey, people stop believin'.”

Hale laughed, shaking his head. “It's not really singing. It's more of a whistle. Everybody can whistle, right?” Kenzi still looked dubious. “Come on. Give me your best Andy Griffith.”

Sensing a dare, Kenzi sat up a little straighter and pursed her lips. She took a deep breath, and tried to whistle a little tune. Only a whispery squeak came out.

She turned to Hale, ready to give him a snarky I-told-you-so, but then she noticed that he'd been looking at her lips. Rather intently. In a way that had nothing to do with whistling.

A flush rose up her neck and face. “Um, so.” She fidgeted. “Probably not. You know. A siren.”

He smiled enigmatically. “Your call.”

 

4.

“This one?”

Vex glanced up from the leather cuffs he'd been examining. He wrinkled his nose immediately. “Of course not. I wouldn't let you out of the house in that.”

Kenzi's face fell. The belt in her hand was a supple burgundy with assorted studs along its length. “But the color brings out the natural flush in my delicate cheeks.”

“It brings out the natural vomit from my delicate stomach,” Vex retorted. “I saw something like that in the window of a Hot Topic last month. Think bigger.”

She gave him a mutinous look, but put the belt back. Although Vex's attitude left something to be desired, his instinct for accessories could not be denied.

“Now that one up there,” he murmured, coming to stand beside her. She followed his pointed finger. Just above the register was a strappy thing that would wrap snug around her waist from ribcage to hips.

“That's completely ridiculous,” she whispered.

“You won't be able to breathe,” he agreed.

“I have to have it,” she concluded.

Vex casually flicked a finger, and a nearby shopgirl suddenly lurched toward the belt. By the time Vex and Kenzi got to the front counter, the confused cashier had it wrapped up already.

Later on, over colorful bubble teas, Kenzi admitted that Vex's powers were pretty useful.

“ _Handy_ , you might say,” he added. She rolled her eyes. “You know,” he said slowly, “I'm told that I'm the last mesmer. I think it would be a shame if someday, upon my eventual demise, this fantastic talent disappeared from the world forever.”

Kenzi chewed a tapioca ball thoughtfully. “That may be true, but I think it's your keen fashion sense and genial demeanor that we'd really miss.”

How Kenzi ended up with boba in her hair, Vex would never explain.

 

5.

The Dal was nearly empty, but Dyson still managed to sneak up on her. His voice came rumbling over her shoulder, making her jump.

“How's the list going?"

Kenzi gave him an innocent look while stuffing something into her bag. “List? What list?”

Her reflexes were no match for his, of course, so it wasn't exactly surprising when he ended up with the crumpled paper in his hand. She narrowed her eyes at him and he smiled mischievously.

“Quite a lot of fae crossed off here. You don't want to be a brownie? I'm shocked. You're such a dutiful housekeeper.”

“Ha ha ha,” she muttered. She reached over the bar and retrieved a bottle of whisky and two glasses. She poured. Dyson accepted with a nod, and they drank together.

"Kenzi,” he said, “you know I would ..."

She snorted. "Yeah, right. Can you see me as a wolf?"

He gave her his playful smile, the one that simultaneously concealed and revealed intense affection. "Yes," he replied. "I can."

She held his eyes for a moment, taking in his warm, open face and thinking of everything they'd been through to get to this point. Then she cleared her throat abruptly. "Dyson,” she said, “I have seen your wardobe.”

He raised an eyebrow quizzically. She continued, “I know what happens to your clothes when you decide to get all four-legged and furry. If you think I'm leaving these designer duds in a woodland clearing, you've got another thing coming.”

“I thought you might say that.” He reached into his jacket and pulled out a small, ancient-looking book.

She waved it away. “I've already flipped through every book on Trick's shelves. I've never seen that much dust. I don't know if my cuticles will ever recover.”

Dyson pressed the book into her hands anyway, and she looked down at it. The title was in Russian.

“Trick doesn't have all the books,” he said.

 

6.

The clear light of the moon filtered through the dense branches above, barely reaching the wet soil. No forest in North America could compare to the thick woods of Eastern Europe. Although it was unlike any place she'd ever been, Kenzi thought it somehow felt like coming home.

Beside her, Dyson lifted a hand. She stopped, holding her breath. Somewhere far off, she could hear a running river. Bo had also frozen, turning her head toward the sound. There was a flash of white between the trunks, like a gown swirling underwater.

She was waiting for them on the riverbank, still but tense as a bowstring. Her face seemed smooth and young, with wet hair hanging against her pale cheeks. _Berehynia_ , the book had said. Slavic legends held that she was a protective spirit who lived near brooks and creeks, sometimes luring humans to a drowning death, sometimes guiding them from the forest to safety. She could create wards around herself to keep safe. More importantly, she could keep her friends and allies safe.

Kenzi knew the words and she had the offering. All she had to do was ask. She looked to Dyson for reassurance, and he nodded. Bo smiled encouragingly. With a calming breath, Kenzi stepped forward.

**Author's Note:**

> I haven't seen any of season 4 or the webisodes, so this doesn't take those into account.


End file.
